


On the Case

by RhiaDalish



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, Just Friends, fun stuff, picking on the dwarf, prompt from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:31:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhiaDalish/pseuds/RhiaDalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt on tumblr</p>
<p>Varric is grilled as Hawke, Isabela, and Merrill try to solve the mystery of Bianca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Case

Varric ran his fingers over her curves. The smooth surface warm to the touch and shining in the moonlight. She responded readily to his touch and command, always on the edge of release.

“Such a thing of beauty,” he said with adoration.

“One of these days I’m going to walk in on you and Bianca and…” Hawke’s eyes went wide for a second as she sat at the table, then she shook her head. “Now that’s an image I could have done without.”

“Come on now, Hawke. I lock my doors,” Varric whipped a rag from his vest and began to lovingly polish the crossbow’s glossy handle.

“No you don’t,” Isabela nudged her way between Hawke and the dwarf, taking up half of Varric’s chair and half of Hawke’s lap.

“So, Rivaini, your mystical powers turn out to be snooping and not correctly guessing the color of everyone’s small clothes,” Varric tried to be annoyed, but was too amused to bother.

“Hey now. I still have to try and guess which ones you have on,” She cocked an eyebrow and pointed at the dwarf. “Purple satin?”

“Damn, maybe you do have the gift,” Varric chuckled and resumed polishing Bianca.

“Varric when are you going to tell me how you _really_ got Bianca?” Isabela leaned over Varric so that one of her breasts rested on his shoulder.

“I’ve already told you!”

“Oh this will be good,” Hawke set down her mug and leaned towards Varric who looks squirrelly. “Which story did he tell you? Won it in cards?”

“Noooo,” Isabela drew out the word like a song, “He told me he bought it in Lowtown and it still had the previous owner’s hand attached.”

Hawke guffawed loudly, causing the area around them in the Hanged Man to go silent for a moment.

“What’s so funny?” Merrill sat down across from the three crowded friends, smiling eagerly.

“We’re trying to solve the mystery of Bianca,” Hawke’s voice held the foreboding tenor of a tale of great peril.

“Oh!” Merrill beamed, “A strange beggar man shoved it into his arms in Darktown then vanished into thin air! Poof! Just like that!”

“What?” Hawke and Isabela both interjected, cackling like witches.

“Daisy—“ Varric held out his hands, trying to calm the laughing women on his right and the worried looking elf across the table.

“Oh no! Was that a secret?” Merrill’s large, green eyes looked watery. “I’m so sorry, Varric! Me and my big mouth!”

“It’s a big, fat lie is what it is,” Isabela reached her arm around and poked the dwarf in his hairy chest.

“What d’ya mean?” Merrill’s delicate brows knitted.

“It’s nothing personal, Daisy. I just want to keep this one story to myself is all.”

“Well she’s got to be named after someone,” Isabela sat up as straight as she could on her uneven seat. “Some _very_ special lady.”

“Did a lady named Bianca give it to you?” Merrill’s tone was expectant.

“No, nothing so boring as that. Now tell me about this ship you stumbled upon, Ravaini.”

“Oh! It’s _huge_ , the biggest mast I’ve ever –“

“Don’t let him distract you! We’re on the case, remember?” Hawke scolded the pirate still half on her lap. Her leg was mostly asleep.

“But I want to talk about my booooat,” the pirate whined.

“Is it an heirloom? Did you have to pull it from a stone?” Merrill inquired excitedly.

“No and no, but I might have to use that stone story. That’s not bad, Daisy.”

“Oh! Why thank you,” Merrill was very pleased with herself and wiggled in her seat.

“Did she make it?” Hawke poked her head over Isabela’s should, her gaze probing.

“What?” Varric shifted in his seat.

“Did who make it?” Isabela was still plainly thinking about her boat.

“A lady named Helga,” Hawke shoved Isabela playfully, “who do you think?”

“A beautiful dwarf lady named Bianca! Yes, Hawke! Master craftswoman and wayward lover of this dashing and hairy-chested rogue of Kirkwall!” Merrill splayed her hands on the table as she wove her compelling tale.

“Daisy, that’s ridiculous –“

“He hides the true story of the crossbow to protect her from other wanting a copy, but he still gave it her namesake. That’s so romantic, Varric!” The elf clasped her hands and cooed.

“Why would I name the crossbow after someone I wanted to protect?” Varric was on the verge of grumpiness. “Isn’t that pointing everyone straight to her? If there was a her.”

“Because…” Merrill brought her hand to her chin. “That does seem awfully stupid.”

“If she were a master craftswomen, then her name would probably be known as well,” Hawke chimed in. Varric snuck her a grateful look.

“I supposed you’re right.” The elf sighed, a more than a little disappointed.

The four of them sat in semi-awkward silence for a moment. Isabela hummed a sailor’s cant.

“So tell me how you managed to pull Bianca from a stone,” Hawke piped up, breaking the lull and Isabela’s musings on her new vessel.

Varric laughed, his eyes twinkling. “You’ll never believe it, but it all started when I woke up in the middle of a forest miles from the nearest village…”


End file.
